


Numbers on the Balcony.

by straightlycurved



Category: Sword Art Online (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Rebellion, Revenge
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2020-11-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 01:48:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27056686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightlycurved/pseuds/straightlycurved
Summary: she's at the top.he's fighting the ones above her.
Relationships: Kirigaya Kazuto | Kirito/Yuuki Asuna | Asuna
Comments: 22
Kudos: 23





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> a/n: hey, i know this is a sort of cliched trope but i just really got into this type of groove today. its a bit short, yeah, but lmk if y'all would wanna read this or if i should move it into my google docs trash. any feedback would be mucho appreciated :))

What was it that drew her to this balcony?

It was one of two attached to her room. The other looked out upon the Financial District, the crown jewel of the Northern Constituency; by far the more picturesque snapshot, a dynamic example of the life everyone wanted to live.

The balcony she was on while in this contemplation faced the West, which was _far from_ the dream life. On the outskirts of the city, stretched the moderately prosperous farmlands that fed much of the Northern Constituency and First Principality. It was what lay beyond them, past the border, well out of sight but an acute presence whenever one glanced west, that disgusted every citizen. The Occupied Territories _._

She shook her head. Those were not thoughts she could afford to have, not while she was living the life she was living. She lived in the most upscale residency in the entire district - the Occupied Territories should be the last thing on her mind.

Yet still, she stood unmoving, gazing into the horizon painted gold by the setting sun, wondering _what_ it was that enraptured her when she admired the West. Was it this balcony? Was it the farmlands? Was it, god forbid, what lay past them? _No. It couldn't be._

Perhaps it was the way the music from her violin sounded so beautifully when she played it sitting on the lone rocking chair.

Perhaps it was the way the purple of the dusk always seemed so much richer while she sipped her tea leaning against the rail.

Perhaps it was everything.

Perhaps it was nothing.

_Perhaps_ , Asuna Yuuki thought, _there's something wrong with me._

* * *

Numbers.

He liked numbers.

Numbers only changed when you wanted them to.

Pi wouldn't become finite tomorrow.

The golden ratio would always be the same formula.

Finding an integral or a derivative never involved a new set of rules.

Someone had decided long ago that it would always be this way, because it couldn't be any other way.

He wondered why the same couldn't be true for his life. Why was math his only respite? Why did the laws in Reksinya - nope, sorry, The _Occupied Territories_ \- change at the whims of his cruel overlords?

Who gave that power to these men?

He wasn't going to let them keep it.

While numbers may have been his escape, it also was how he exacted revenge against those monsters. Every explosive he designed using his chemistry knowledge, every firearm he made more efficient with physics, every single cent he swiped for the Reksinya Freedom Front - it was those heaven-sent _numbers_ that helped him do that.

So he liked numbers.

Hell, he _loved_ those goddamn numbers.

One, two - that was one number he did not like.

Thirty-one, Thirty-three - those were also numbers he did not like.

But he supposed his reasons for that were reasonable. Reasonable. Unlike the pricks who'd invaded his homeland.

He'd get true retribution one day.

Kazuto Kirigaya swore it upon the two graves that they'd destroyed. _The two graves that meant everything to me._


	2. Chapter 2

He played a dangerous game.

He played a _very_ dangerous game.

Kazuto knew this.

It was the reason he still went to work for them everyday. It was the reason no one in the Reksinya Freedom Front had ever seen his face. It was the reason _Kirito,_ and not _Kirigaya,_ took credit for the 31 lives he'd taken so far.

Because no one could over find out.

Sometimes he did wish, though, that he could get that burden off his shoulders. Not because he wanted the credit, not because he hated keeping secrets (god knew he was good at that) - no, it was because he hated feeling like he was _helping_ the bastards who ruled him when he went to work at the quarry for them.

It was a necessary sacrifice. _But damn, this godforsaken quarry,_ Kazuto thought as he heaved the pickaxe. With a thunderous clang, the rock in front of him cracked just a little more.

Kazuto wiped away the beads of sweat on his forehead, for they were sure to drip down his bare back like the glistening moisture already coating his toned muscles suggested. As he swung the heavy tool again, another loud sound echoing in a mine full of them, the slab of granite in front of him finally broke free, nearly crushing the raven-haired teen's toes on its way down to the minecart below.

And he simply shrugged. _Occupational hazard._ Kirigaya glanced down to track the path of the gray lump into the receptacle. It looked like that was the piece of granite that would fill the thing. He breathed a sigh of relief.

Kazuto jumped down from his perch, glad to have a break from the relentless sun that shone throughout the topless canyon, but looking at the cart laden with heavy granite with disdain. He was dreading having to push it up the steep rails affixed to the canyon walls.

As he began his ascent up to the repository, Kazuto grimaced every time he was faced with the Royal Seal, which the Authority looked to plaster upon any available inch. He'd never really understood why; no amount of bombardment with a picture was going to make the people of Reksinya more welcome to the oppression of the First Principality.

It was a very lame seal, too. A red shield split into thirds by three intersecting gold lines, with an emblem in each corner to represent the three Constituencies. A dragon to represent the Eastern Constituency and its speciality, entertainment, in the top left. A gear to represent the Southern Constituency and its focus on innovation and industry. A trident to represent the Northern Constituency and how it was the import, export, and finance capital of the First Principality, all of which were made possible by its proximity to the ocean. And finally, at the center of it all, at the tripoint where all the lines met, was a crown, to represent the Throne, and the Royal Protectorate.

Could it get any more generic? _They should hire me to design them a better seal,_ Kazuto thought jokingly. _I may suck at art but at least I could add some spice to it._

Regardless, he, and most of the other Reksinyans, would never accept the rule of the Authority, nor the seal they seemed to love. As if what it represented was something to be proud of.

There was no pride in war.

There was no pride in cruelty.

There was no pride in desecrating graves.

* * *

In the rural parts of many Constituencies, churches had graveyards.

Asuna Yuuki did not live in a rural part of the Northern Constituency. And the cathedral she was in sure as hell didn't have a graveyard out back, either.

Her back ached from sitting up in the rigid wooden pews lining the expansive interior of said cathedral. Her feet ached from being arched up in ridiculous angles for hours. Her mind ached from sitting through yet another knightship ceremony.

The third one in as many months.

It was unheard of, this many cadets being promoted to knight. The Authority usually held a mass knightship at the end of every training year, to induct the 20-ish knights who'd graduated from being an Authority Cadet.

These past few months, the Northern Constituency Authority _alone_ had inducted nearly 60 knights. Something was amiss, and everyone knew it - but no one voiced it. Especially not the Yuuki family, not with their obsession with status and perception.

Their doctrine: Never talk about _why_ something's happening; but if it is, be there.

And it was following precisely that advice that had led Asuna to don another dress, equip another pair of heels, and braid her hair once more. To watch yet another pointless ceremony, a ceremony that felt...with no other way to put it, _off._

See, while the Yuuki family doctrine meant to question nothing and keep up appearances, Asuna was never one to go along with it. Sure, she'd do whatever her parents asked of her. But when the time came, Asuna would not let a situation go without critiquing it.

_Why now?_

_Why does it feel so rushed?_

_Why so many?_

_Why are they leaving the Constituency, never to be seen again?_

_Why doesn't anyone know where they're going?_

_Why haven't they sent a minister with them?_

_What is the Authority hiding?_

Asuna shuddered. If her parents knew what had just run through her mind, they would be aghast. In her mother's words, it simply would not do for a prospective noblewife to be thinking those things. It would scare off the suitors.

_To hell with those suitors._

Oops. Another risky thought.

Asuna really did have to be careful with this.

It was dangerous to disobey the Authority.

It was dangerous to be disloyal to the Throne.

It was a dangerous game she was playing.

* * *

Later, back on her balcony and grateful to be wearing a soft nightdress in lieu of the terribly uncomfortable monstrosity she'd worn that afternoon, Asuna played that game again.

She'd mulled over many things on that balcony before. Tonight was no different: just another question. But this evening's feature appearance generated much more turbulence in Asuna's mind than the seemingly inconsequential one she'd had yesterday, or the day before, or any time prior, really.

How had she known she needed to be careful with what she said?

And why did she believe, with every inch of her soul, that the Authority was dangerous?


	3. Chapter 3

Reksinya hadn’t always looked like this.

Kazuto could remember a time, in his childhood, when the dust didn’t coat the streets. When the houses were painted bright colors; the hue of sand present only in classrooms. When there wasn’t a yellow tinge to the sky.

When the grass grew green and long. When every crack was painted over, every child running about without a care in the world. When the playgrounds rang with squeals of joy and not shouts of pain as they were massacred.

When parents didn’t have to bury their children…

And when children didn’t walk home with their family’s blood coating their shirts.

It wasn’t that long ago.

But to Kazuto, it felt like years. And for more reasons than one.

As he arrived home--or what passed for a home, nowadays--Kazuto sighed deeply. Having just made it to his doorstep minutes before curfew, he looked at the pitch-black night sky, the only time he could look around and not see particles floating through the air. He hated it when there were no stars. But by the time they came out, he was supposed to be inside, like a good little slave.

Another memory.

Going stargazing in the meadow.

Kazuto shook himself. _No more time for reminiscing._ He stepped inside quietly, hoping to not wake the other people in the house, not daring to start a light. Finally rid of his bothersome shoes and dirty clothes, he collapsed on his bed.

Four-year-old Kazuto would have current Kazuto’s head if he knew that the teen actually wanted to take a bath every night. But it was those little things that kept his head on straight. Without those memories to cling on to, how would he get through life?

Without the stability of a life past, Kirito could never have hoped to kill those 31 knights.

As the moonlight filtered through a hole in the pastel-colored clay wall, he drifted off to a sleep sure to be dreamless; here, there were no dreams.There was only pain.

-

Kazuto awoke the next morning lazily, a rare occurrence in a world where he pulled 12 hours at the quarry for the Principality, followed by a good chunk of the night with the RFF. Mornings like these were his reprieve.

Because it meant he had more time with the Freedom Front. He rose from the bed sluggishly, the pensive moonlight replaced with the harsh and unforgiving sun. Whose bright idea it was to put Reksinya in the middle of a desert, Kazuto didn’t know.

But he cursed them just the same. A clatter from below restored his senses fully. The sounds of his mother and sister getting ready for work signaled that it was time for him to do the same. Only, his job was infinitely more treacherous.

Kazuto shielded his eyes from the unforgiving brightness exploding through the hole-ridden walls of the Kirigaya home. As he’d thought last night, this place didn’t remind him much of safety and love.

He descended the stairs two at a time, classic adolescent impatience winning out against the discipline he was always forced to employ while constructing bombs. Kazuto simply excused this with the knowledge that every other step was damaged in some way anyway.

Kazuto reached the entrance of the house and moved to grab the doorknob and flee when a voice stopped him.

“Ah, Kazuto, I see you’re finally awake!”

Crap. It was his mother.

His mother who did not know about him being in the RFF. His mother who would kill him herself if she knew about those 31 Authority Knights he’d murdered. His mother who could not know, because she worked for the enemy. His “mother”.

“Ah...hi, _mom_ ,” Kazuto said, emphasizing the title for his “sister’s” benefit. “I was just about to head out.”

“I know you are. Where to?” His mother crossed her arms, giving him a look.

Kazuto panicked. _Does she know, does she know, oh God does she--_ “To the...to the quarry. I have to check in with my supervisor there.” It was the easiest lie he could come up with.

She gave him a disapproving look before sighing. “And you were just going to slip out without telling me or Suguha?”

“I just didn’t want to disturb you. I know you’ve got work and neither of you can afford to be late.”

Kazuto’s mother shook her head and turned around to walk back into the living room. “I worry about you, sometimes, Kazuto.”

Relief coursed through his veins as he stepped outside the house. It wasn’t that Kazuto liked lying to his mother, but sometimes lying was the only way to seek truth. And his mother had lied her fair share of times to him, too. “In my opinion, well more than her fair share,” he whispered to himself as he navigated the bustling streets.

For a minute, Kazuto almost felt like a normal 16-year-old, slipping out of the house first thing in the morning to go hang out with his buddies. The _world_ felt like a normal Reksinya. Just another Sunday.

Then that _god damn YELLOW_ came back. It coated everything once more, the rose-tinted glasses turning sunflower. Kazuto resumed his search for his designated meeting spot. According to the message, it was at Location Epsilon, the codeword for the roof of 33 East Epoto Street.

Getting there took a little less time than Kirito had expected, meaning he had some time to look around. From his perch upon Epsilon, Kirito had a view of much of the city, but most of the city did not have a view of him. He took in the landscape, scanning the crowd, the people, his people, and something seemed out of place.

_There are too many Authority Knights._

Of the 800 or so Authority Knights in commission at a given point in time, only half were assigned active duty -- meaning defending the border, fighting abroad, or administering Occupied Territories.

In Reksinya’s case, the only Occupied Territory at the moment, 100 Authority Knights were relegated. Since Kirito had eliminated 31 of them, that should have meant only 69 were present in the city, at the most 80 if the Authority or the Throne had sent in backup.

So why in the name of everything that was good and holy were there suddenly 120 and counting Authority Knights patrolling the streets?

Where the _hell_ had the other 50 come from?

“The mysteries of life abound rather peculiarly.” The password was spoken by someone on the other side of the tarp that halved the roof of 33 East Epoto Street. Because no one was to see Kirito’s face. Ever.

To finish his part of the password, Kirito responded, “Life is the most peculiar mystery of them all.”

“I’m the courier for this message,” the person said after a pause.

“Very well.”

A few sheets of paper were slipped under the tarp, followed by the rustling of clothes as the courier left.

He picked up the message and made his way home.

\--

Asuna supposed she should be grateful for the education she got; there were few privileged enough to be able to attend school. That too, as a woman!

But she could not stop herself from hating numbers. Mathematics and chemistry must have been created by savages in hell and those who were able to use them were nothing more than the spawn of the devil.

As she collapsed onto her bed after painstakingly completing her final assignment for the day, Asuna cursed her tutor and every one of her wealthy, rich classmates. She preferred the freedom, the creativity, the _beauty_ of simply cooking a meal. Those who were at school with her everyday did not think the same thing. They seemed to prefer the rigidity of classes, the absolution of equations, the staticity of bureaucracy.

If only she had the energy to cook anything today.

She supposed there always was a tomorrow.

\--

After reading the message given to him by the RFF, Kazuto realized that from that particular moment, the next day was no longer a certainty to anyone fighting the good fight.

The Authority had assigned 121 more Knights to Reksinya as a precaution after Kirito had eliminated 31 of them, bringing the total number of Knights in the Occupied Territories to 190.

Granted, they were green and had only just graduated from being cadets, but that meant diddly squat when they were outnumbered and outgeared. This wasn’t even counting any of the Authority foot soldiers, with whom the personnel count would rise well into the thousands.

Compared to the RFF’s 54 members, the Authority was exponentially more powerful.

_I guess it just means I have to kill more with less._


	4. Chapter 4

The pleasant aroma of spices wafted around the airy expanse of the kitchen, steam from the boiling water visible in the orange light of the setting pot set over the fire bubbled away happily, thoroughly soaking and flavoring the vegetables within. Fat from thick cuts of meat dripped off a pan in a meandering fashion. A flurry of activity followed regular yells by the staff, moving around in a frenzy. A chaotic grace, palpable in the atmosphere.

Asuna Yuuki watched, green with envy, as the servants of Yuuki Manor prepared the meals her family would be eating later that night. Oh, how she wished she could be in there, searing a random chicken breast or seasoning some kind of stew.

Instead, she was stuck observing from the outside because apparently _nobles who cook are a disgrace to their family_. It had been repeated to Asuna many times over the course of her life. She could vividly recall one particular instance.

Asuna had been only four; much before her brain was molded into prioritizing her reputation over her interests. She had snuck into the kitchens, intrigued by the sounds and smells coming from behind the imposing door at the end of the hallway.

When she stepped inside, she was frozen for a minute. It was the moment she fell in love with the art of food. In slow motion, she saw every movement made by every person. She witnessed every stir of a pot with every turn of a spatula. She admired every flicker of the flame that cooked her sustenance.

It was then that she had decided she wanted to live in this kitchen for the rest of her life.

Moments later, a very annoyed Kyouko Yuuki, mother of Asuna, had walked in and dragged her out by the arm. After some very harsh unintelligibilities, her mom finally calmed down enough to make sense.

"You are never to go in the kitchen. Ever," Kyouko had said harshly.

"But, mother-" Asuna had started.

"No. The kitchen is a place for servants, for peasants, for commonwives. _You_ are a noblewoman. You will _not_ step foot in there."

"Why can't I be a commonwife?!" a young Asuna had asked in desperation.

"Because nobles who must cook tarnish the names of their families."

It was the first time Asuna was faced with the reality of the life she lived; every move she made would always be scrutinized, every single mistake she'd ever make would be put under the microscope and could potentially ruin the lives of everyone in her family.

She was young, and she could not understand more than that. But she did understand that since her mother's tirade was around _appearances_ and not the act of cooking itself, she made an impressive conclusion for her age: as long as no one ever _saw_ Asuna in the kitchen, the Yuuki family name would remain dignified.

It was not a perfect solution by any stretch of the imagination; if one could call spending weeks memorizing the servants' and guards' rotational schedules and sneaking out of bed at two in the morning to cook a "solution", but it worked. Asuna got to keep cooking, and Kyouko got to keep her social standing.

It was, however, deeply unsatisfying to Asuna for one particular reason; this nagging issue that had bothered her since day 1 of her under-the-radar cooking operation. She was never able to present her creations to anyone. No one had ever taken a bite of her food and said, "Wow, Asuna, this tastes great!"

It was probably her greatest desire. To hear someone appreciate her food.

But alas, it was not meant to be.

She'd come close. Once. Before her brother had gotten-

"We don't speak of that," she whispered to herself as the sun finally disappeared behind the horizon, the last traces of gold in the sky disappearing. Kouichirou's name was never taken in her household. Not after what happened a few years ago.

Asuna did a double take when she realized what time it was. She was due in the dining hall in less than an hour and she had to make herself look "presentable". Because apparently, nobility always had to project an aura of readiness and elegance.

Why wasn't this social class the same as any other?

Why couldn't nobility project themselves as human?

* * *

Working in the quarry had more than one advantage for Kazuto. While it did help with his cover as a law-abiding-yet-disgruntled Reksinyan, it also had another perk, one that was infinitely more valuable for his life as Kirito.

It gave him an excuse to collect the Hokkendo that was located underneath the rock. Hokkendo was a mostly useless mineral that formed when certain types of rock were repeatedly disturbed (i.e., a commercial mining operation). As such, there was a motherlode of Hokkendo underneath the mine where Kazuto worked.

Hokkendo was not a sturdy enough substance to build with, nor did it have any particularly special qualities about it to produce something with it. It was just a purposeless byproduct of the quarry. The Authority officials couldn't care less what happened with the Hokkendo that the miners often recovered while working.

Kirito, on the other hand, absolutely _loved_ Hokkendo. At first, he too had thought the stuff was good for nothing. But after a mishap involving boiling water and disintegration, Kirito had made a very... _interesting_...discovery.

Hokkendo made a very, _very_ , good fuse to blow things up. It disintegrated when hot water touched it, and with some calculations, Kirito was able to determine exactly how much rock dissipated each time a drop of water interacted with it. He then factored that into the force of gravity calculations and coupled it with the evaporation rate of boiling water. With this, Kirito was able to fashion a functioning timed fuse without any mechanical components.

And it gave him a huge upper hand.

* * *

Asuna sighed as she retreated to her room after dinner. As always, mealtime was a terse affair. Occasional small talk was made, but even before Kouichirou's abrupt departure from the family, the Yuukis were never ones to socialize amongst themselves. No, they might have appeared as outgoing socialites to the upper class with whom Kyouko Yuuki fraternized with often, but their family dynamic was always the same: cold and distant.

It was why Asuna always sought warmth; be it under her blankets at night, under the sun during summer, or by the kitchen's hearth in the dead of night; warmth was a pleasure she was not afforded with her parents, nor at those dreadfully formal galas she was forced to attend.

She sat on the balcony with a shawl draped around her neck as she grasped haphazardly for just a little bit more light. The pitch black darkness seemed to be a little more endearing today. Something in the distance was not just warm; it was hot. Of course, she didn't know this, but as Asuna grabbed at where that sensation was emanating from...

...she was facing west.


	5. Chapter 5

**a/n: just fyi, i'm playing with their ages and making them both 16, but this could change at a later point at which time i'll come back and edit this. For now, though, asuna and kazuto are both 16.**

The seal was imprinted on a large flag waving proudly in the air. The sun shone down on the busy city street, and the hustle and bustle of the Saturday farmer's market crowd rang out clearly throughout the heart of Reksinya. Kazuto laid on a pillar, taking a moment to bask in the warm afternoon light. As the wind blew slightly across his face, he thought, _life doesn't get much better than this._

Suddenly, a loud **BOOM** rocked the entire market and the screams of the people nearby him jolted Kazuto out of his laziness. He jumped up and into a defensive position, only to be greeted with a horrifying sight. Everyone around him was melting away; like water on a rainy day, they rolled down the brick pathway…

Something was wrong. This wasn't right. Kazuto frantically scanned the area, looking for any sign of what was happening. The liquid form of his fellow Reksinyans rushed around his ankles. He happened to glance down and found the ground much closer than he'd thought. _Why am I so short? Come to think of it, where's the yellow in the sky? Where are the holes that litter this street?_

From the sky, a bright flash of light was followed by roaring thunder. When Kazuto looked up, he strained to crane his neck. The violent waving of the flag caught his eye. The wind picked up furiously around him while he realized the flag had changed. There was no seal, no gold. The flag was just a block of red. The rain spontaneously started coming down in sheets.

_What? RAIN? In the middle of the summer?_ The rushing water served as a mirror. _Wait...why am I seven years old?_ The reflection that greeted Kazuto was one from nine years ago. His hair was different; more spiky. His eyes were bigger; more innocent. _This isn't right, this isn't right, this isn't right-_

Something wet dripped onto the top of Kazuto's head. Not rain. This was thicker than water. This... _is stickier,_ he thought. The liquid coursed down his hair, Kazuto feeling every bit of it, and had just started to drip down the front of his face. Kazuto lightly touched his index finger to it and… " _Crimson?"_ he whispered to himself, confused.

He glanced up to find out what this maroon liquid was. He was shocked when he found it was the _flag._ Disintegrating with every drop of rain that touched it, the flag was becoming a liquid, falling onto Kazuto. Out of the blue, the flag started liquifying faster, and the world around Kazuto shifted.

He was in a black void, a realm devoid of everything but the red liquid. The nothingness began to envelop him, each passing second filling Kazuto with more dread. His last thought as he was sucked into the liquid was... _blood._

* * *

Kazuto shot straight up, gasping.

Peaceful moonlight filtered through the largest hole in Kazuto's room, where a window used to be, but he was feeling anything but calm right now. Beads of sweat traced a trail down his bare back and Kazuto could swear his heartbeat was causing earthquakes all the way in the Eastern Constituency.

His terror receding but his confusion still very much present, Kazuto stood from the raggedy futon he called a mattress and took deep breaths. The feeling of the viscous, adhesive liquid choking him with its very existence was something he could not get off his skin at that moment. He leaned against the clay that made up the structure of the house and looked out at the dark and abandoned city-state. For all of its flaws, the Authority was _very_ good at enforcing the mandatory curfew for Reksinyan citizens.

Kazuto could only wonder one thing.

_Why did the flag transform into suffocating blood?_

* * *

Asuna winced as she saw more blood spill down on the coliseum floor. This sick form of entertainment was much too gruesome for her to enjoy, but the rest of the Yuukis seemed to take some wicked pleasure in watching the poorest of society fight each other to the death.

By far, death was a preferable option; the alternative was living to fight another day, then another; until they, too, finally succumbed. If Asuna was one of those peasants forced to kill to survive, she didn't know what she'd do. It was disheartening, if she was being honest. _What are they living for? Why don't they just give up? It's a life of misery._ She simply did not understand.

Next to her, Asuna's father, Shouzou Yuuki, laughed heartily. Below them, a man's arm was cut off by the other. His screams of pain were inaudible through the roar of joy that rippled through the entire stadium.

_Are they really so depraved they laugh at the dismemberment of someone else?_ Asuna looked at her family, who was wearing proud smiles. _No, it can't be. The Yuukis sure as hell aren't depraved but we enjoy this too._ It was sound logic to Asuna.

The sword from the other plunged into the one-armed man's throat, ending his life right then and there. Blood gushed from the wound, staining the dirt floor of the coliseum, and the survivor collapsed next to it. Asuna didn't get how he could be right next to that blood and not flinch. _He_ had made it appear. It was like the entire place was flooding with it, and yet that man was still there, motionless as the corpse he'd just created.

"Never mind," Asuna whispered to herself. "The only depraved ones here are _them_."

* * *

Later, at the dinner table, Shouzou brought up a topic of conversation Asuna had been dreading for a while. At first, the conversation seemed innocuous.

"Ah, Asuna, dear, you do remember the Nobuyuki family, right?"

She thought back for a second before swallowing timidly and answering in the meek, "womanly" voice her mother had conditioned her to use around men. "The family who runs the Recto Bank?"

"Precisely. I'm sure you remember Mr. Nobuyuki, and how he's a partner in one of my business ventures in the Occupied Territories, too."

"The mine, yes. I remember, father."

"Did you know he has a son?" asked Shouzou.

Asuna's voice tightened a bit. "No, I didn't."

"Well, he's 23 - only seven years older than you - and runs a very tight ship down at the mine. He's very successful," her father continued.

_He sounds like a salesman. Trying to sell me something I don't want._

"Well, I hear he's single and looking for a noblewife."

"Father?" _Oh no. Oh god no._ Asuna's worst fears were being realized.

"He's coming over tomorrow-it's entirely platonic, by the way-and I'd like you to meet him. Just talk to him. See if you like him," he quickly explained.

"Yes, honey, see if you do," Kyouko Yuuki interjected.

The unspoken addendum hung heavily in the air. _And you better._

**a/n: I KNOW THIS IS LATE BUT I'M INTRODUCING AN OC NEXT CHAPTER AND I TOOK A LITTLE BIT TOO MUCH TIME WITH IT IM SORRYYYYY**


	6. Chapter 6

"Your Highness, the War Room has requested your presence." The message caught the young prince's ears, the intended recipient, and he heaved a disappointed sigh. _Why must she insist on continuing this worthless formality?_

"Thank you, Kaemon. I'll be there in a moment. You don't need to escort me," he replied. Normally, the prince's personal guard, Sentry Kaemon, would put up a fight with him going anywhere alone; especially a military meeting where the Sentry's intellect would be invaluable. But being with the prince 24/7 meant that Kaemon understood the teenager more than anyone else. He also understood why exactly there was no n eed for him to be present. The institutions that once maintained the integrity of the First Principality had been undermined. The War Room was just another obsolete practice _she_ kept around to maintain appearances.

The prince resigned himself to yet another hour wasted with the princess and her yes-men in the War Room and slowly stood from his chair. One of these days, he'd just not bother to show up and see if someone noticed. Slowly, the young monarch made his way across the castle, from his quarters to the designated meeting spot, oftentimes stopping to sightsee. As if he hadn't walked these halls for the past 16 years of his existence.

The sadist in the prince wanted to delay the pointless War Room shenanigan even further with a later arrival, but the obedience instilled in him by his parents won over and he managed to make the meeting right on time. The princess and her entourage were already seated inside the large room. A long, thin table spanned a considerable length of the room, and on both sides of it sat the people required to be present for the War Room. At the head of the table, flickering light from the fires that lit the space made the (wo)man of the hour look more menacing than she already was. A seat at the foot of the table lay vacant, an afterthought, for the prince to take a seat.

As he moved to do so, the princess rose, another custom long since made meaningless, and bowed. Technically, under Principal Imperial Law, neither the Prince nor Princess could be made Emperor nor Empress until they married. The practice of the law had long been discarded by his sister's de facto ascension to the throne. Still, the law was the law, and since both the prince and princess were titularly the same, they greeted each other as equals in official capacities.

"Crown Prince Akemi Imai," the princess said coldly.

"Crown Princess Aerith Imai," Akemi responded, in a similar fashion.

Aerith reseated herself and began the proceedings by proclaiming, "I, Crown Princess Imai, with the power vested in me by the institutions of the First Principality, and in my honor-bound duty as Commissioner of the Authority, hereby declare these War Room proceedings in session!"

_What a bunch of horseshit._

* * *

"Man, I look like hell," Kazuto whispered to himself. He was using a shard of broken glass as a mirror, and while he was not normally one to be vain, the dark circles under his eyes and the soulless pupils that stared back at him concerned Kazuto slightly.

He didn't know what it was that was taking such a heavy toll on his body-the strenuous work at the quarry, the stress of the RFF, the lack of sleep, maybe even a combination of all three-but he knew it wouldn't be letting up any time soon.

The setting sun cast an array of light to his back as he dropped the mirror and continued his walk east to Location Epsilon for what was described to Kazuto by spraytag as "an emergency meeting." (Spraytagging was a communication method used sparingly by the RFF due to risk of being found out. It involved painting nondescript symbols in designated and inconspicuous places.)

_What was so urgent it couldn't wait for his weekly scheduled meeting?_

Kazuto _hoped_ it was good news. It was foolish-emergency meetings rarely were positive-but no one could blame a man for hoping, right?

He ascended the stairs to the rooftop of 33 East Epoto Street anxiously. And he was surprised to find that there was an envelope addressed to "Kirito" waiting there for him already. _That's ridiculously dangerous._ Kirito rushed to grab it before anyone else had the unlikely opportunity to see it.

"I know Epsilon's relatively secure, but damn, that was risky as hell," he whispered, frustrated, before starting his run back home.

* * *

No one was waiting for him at the Kirigaya residence when Kazuto got back. Thankfully. While Suguha and Midori's jobs could be problematic, it also had a few benefits. Granted, working for the local Authority Chief as housemaids was diametrically opposed to the very message Kirito risked his life for, but the long hours also meant that he was alone to do as he pleased more often than not.

This instance was another time when that particular disadvantage/advantage came in handy. With a lighted candle by his side, ready to destroy any incriminating evidence at a moment's notice, Kirito began to read what was written for him.

_Kirito,_

_Apologies for the sudden conveyance. I'm sure you won't be disappointed as to why, though. Through some digging, one of our intelligence operatives was able to discover with a vulnerability within the Authority._

_There's a greenie, a foot soldier, who was one among the deployed troops with the 121 Knights. One of our men traced him back to the owner of the quarry and his associates, within six degrees of separation. You read that right. This is a huge opportunity for us._

_We can take down the men behind the biggest Principal commercial operation in Reksinya. We need you to extract intelligence from him._

_I understand this isn't something we normally ask you to do. You're generally a behind the scenes guy, Kirito, I get that. But you're also my best man. I don't know who you are, or what you look like, but I do know this: you can get it done. Use any methods necessary._

_Below is all you need to know._

_Objectives:_

_Find out who the rest of the men who run the mine are. We currently only know about one, Shouzou Yuuki._

_Find out where they live._

_If you can, dig for any more vulnerabilities we can exploit._

_What we know:_

_The rookie's name is Kouichirou Yuuki._

_The man we know about is his father._

_His barracks are located at the Army Camp, Bunk 348._

_He was conscripted as part of some type of criminal justice._

_He is barred from recreational activity because he is serving time for a crime._

_He will be alone in his barracks for three hours with no one around during Off-Base Time for his unit this coming Saturday._

_You are greenlit for elimination, if necessary. Even if not._

_Best,_

_Heathcliff_


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: sorry for the week delay, had a huge case of writer's block.

Night had finally befallen Reksinya when he made his move. Sitting in the shadows, waiting, watching had proven fruitful. For the first time in years, Kirito was able to see the stars. He was able to bask in their light. Tonight, though, that light was a hindrance rather than a pleasure. For when the moon reached its apex in the sea of black dotted with white, he would have to return to the shadows. The light drove that dark refuge away. 

The base was, in fact, deserted, as was promised in the instructions Kirito had received a few days prior. The other Authority foot soldiers (barring the camp guards and those restricted) had all left the Army Camp for their weekly Off-Base Time. It was a pristine opportunity to strike. As Kirito watchfully edged closer to Bunk 348, he noted with relief that once again, Heathcliff had been true to his word. Not a soul from Kouichirou’s unit was around. 

A few deep breaths later, Kirito--with much caution--opened one of the barrack windows from the outside.  _ Man, what kind of a design flaw is this?  _ he thought. The teen peeked inside to find his target lying down with his eyes closed, but definitely not asleep. The breathing was too irregular for that. Kirito observed that it looked like Kouichirou was waiting for someone.

His trepidation grew, but he powered on nonetheless. The mission was much too crucial for him to let it be derailed by something like this. Kirito put all the strength he could into his arms and swung himself up and into the window frame, taking care to land as noiselessly as possible. He was now sitting on a ledge with his feet inches from the ground. He softly set himself onto the floor inside Bunk 348. 

A slight sound was made, but Kouichirou paid it no heed. Kirito was grateful for that. A few moments later, Kirito began to move toward Yuuki at a snail’s pace. He was within an arm’s reach of the other man when all hell broke loose. 

Alarms began to blare and the light of red fire flooded the Camp. Kouichirou jumped to attention, almost toppling Kirito. Just as Kouichirou moved to grab his sword, Kirito gathered his wits and hurriedly hid himself, crawling underneath Kouichirou’s bed. And not a moment too soon. Kirito’s target then looked to where Kirito had stood just seconds earlier, securing his weapon and running outside to confront whatever had triggered the alarm. The sounds of other camp guards doing the same were audible over the piercing shriek of the emergency bells. 

As soon as Kirito was sure the coast was clear, he scurried out from his hiding spot. The panic had set in. “Where do I go, what do I do, why is this happening to me…?” Suddenly, something caught Kirito’s eye. A photograph, fluttering to the ground, apparently disturbed by Kouichirou’s hasty exit. An inexplicable urge to look at it overcame Kirito. 

His all-black cloak folded awkwardly as he bent over to pick it up. It was a portrait of a man. Even though it was shoddy paintwork, Kirito could not help but shudder at what felt like slime just oozing from the subject of the artwork. It was a shot of the man sitting outside, apparently. It seemed to be realistic, like it was made on a balcony looking out upon a city. One thing was for sure, though: this was not in Reksinya. 

His suspicions were confirmed when flipped the paper over to see some notes written on the back:

**_Sugou Nobuyuki_ **

**_Recto Bank, Part of RCT Ventures_ **

**_Mr. Nobuyuki and Father own mine_ **

**_23, runs mine_ **

**_Meeting Asuna soon_ **

“What?” Kirito whispered to himself in confusion. If he was reading this correctly, the guy on the front’s name was Sugou Nobuyuki, and he was 23. He also apparently ran the mine. But if that was the case, why had Kazuto never seen the man? It made no sense. And, if Sugou’s father owned the mine, how come Kazuto had never heard of him? Also, who in the hell was Asuna? 

Suddenly, the door swung open. Kouichirou stepped back inside and turned around to find Kirito frozen in place. In a millisecond, the older man had his sword at Kirito’s throat. With bells still ringing loudly, Yuuki asked in a deathly whisper, “Who are you? What business do you have Sugou Nobuyuki?” He’d noticed that Kirito was looking at that photograph.

Beads of sweat formed on Kirito’s forehead. “My name is Ka-- sorry, Kirito. I, uh…”  _ Shit, do I tell him what I do or not?  _

“You what, kid? Spit it the fuck out or I’ll carve your windpipe out of your throat.” 

Kirito didn’t know what to do. He’d already revealed his RFF codename, but what did that mean in the long run? Was the risk of revealing himself as a rebel operative worth it? He could see Kouichirou’s patience wearing thin. A gamble had to be made. The question was which one. 

“I work for the Reksinya Freedom Front. I was sent here to gather information about Shouzou Yuuki, your father. We received intelligence that he ran the quarry. That’s it, I swear! This is the first time in my life I’ve ever heard of Nobuyuki.” Kirito spit this out so quickly, one would think he was trying to outpace worrisome thoughts.

Kouichirou’s eyes narrowed. “The Reksinya Freedom Front, you say? Hmm…”

The loud emergency sounds faded away and a suffocating silence threatened to squeeze the last vestiges of hope from Kirito. Unexpectedly, Kouichirou sheathed his sword. Kirito was once again stunned. 

“You had me scared for a second there, kid,” the Authority soldier said light-heartedly, as if he hadn’t just issued a gruesome death threat. 

“...HUH?!” 

“Look, we don’t have much time. I can tell you a bit, but only if you  _ promise  _ not to touch my family. Deal?”

_ Say WHAT?!  _

“Kid?”

“...” What was Kirito supposed to do?

“Last chance!”

“FINE! FINE!”

“Alright, you’ve only got a couple minutes if you want out of here without getting caught, but here’s what you need to know. My father owns the mine along with the Nobuyuki father and a man named Akihiko Kayaba. They all live in the Northern Constituency, although I haven’t seen Kayaba for quite some time. That Sugou kid tells that group of three -- RCT Ventures -- that he runs the mine, but in reality, he’s never here. I don’t know where he spends his time, but it’s probably something shady…” Kouichirou continued, telling Kirito as much as he could.

Kirito never found out what exactly Kouichirou had done to land himself in trouble. And he never figured out who Asuna was, either.

\--

Kirito exited the Army Camp safe and sound and reached his house without trouble. 

By candlelight, he wrote a letter to Heathcliff, detailing what he had just learned. This journey was about to get a whole lot more complicated.

\--

Asuna stood, heart beating faster every second, and made her way downstairs, to where the rest of her family was waiting for the Nobuyukis to arrive. She was dreading this. She was dreading all of it. 

The minutes passed faster than she would have liked, until finally, their esteemed guests made their entrance into the Yuuki home. For the first time in her life, Asuna’s eyes met with Sugou’s. And that singular second of eye contact was enough to make her shiver. 

Things were not looking good for Asuna Yuuki. 

\--

Later, the majority of both families moved away from the prospective couple to let them get acquainted. The moment the hall doors closed, leaving Sugou and Asuna alone, the former’s charming smile dropped. Not that the facade had fooled Asuna in the first place. 

“Look here, you little bitch,” Sugou ripped with no hesitation. “I can already tell what you think of me, but to be honest, I really could not give a damn. I  _ am  _ going to make you my bride. Your father’s already fallen so hard for me I could marry  _ him  _ and he wouldn’t blink an eye. And I know all too well what your mother thinks of me. As nothing more than a possible alliance. So how about you stop looking at me like I’m an alien and start looking at me like your husband?” 

Asuna was momentarily speechless, a rare occurrence for her. Sure, she’d known that Sugou was putting up an act from the moment he’d stepped foot onto the estate--those eyes spoke volumes--but  _ this _ ? She hadn’t expected this. As she gathered her wits about her, she retorted, “I can’t look at you like my husband when you talk to me like  _ this _ ! No woman in her right mind would!” 

Sugou then stepped very, very close to Asuna. Grabbing her golden-brown hair in his hands and smelling it, he whispered, “Then I’ll make you fall in love with me. I’ll make you lose your ‘right mind’. Whether you like it or not.” 

Footsteps sounded from outside the hall and Sugou swiftly distanced himself from Asuna to avoid the appearance of impropriety. As the door opened and Sugou began his exit from her home, he sent her one last look, as if he was undressing her with his eyes. 

She immediately turned away from his prying gaze, feeling disgusted beyond belief.  _ That man,  _ she thought.  _ No, that--that monster. How dare he? How dare he have the audacity to speak to me in such a manner? I will not allow this.  _ Firm and resolute, Asuna decided that...

For the first time in her life, she would stand up to her mother.


End file.
